


but you will remember me

by minorseventh



Series: love is on the radio (otayuri au) [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ballet, Breakdancing, M/M, alternate universe - DJ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 03:08:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10402428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minorseventh/pseuds/minorseventh
Summary: (Maybe it's recollection without recognition?)





	

**Author's Note:**

> title from fall out boy's “centuries”
> 
> [spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/athomeintheuniverse/playlist/7HLMtrklntKVgzv6eXrfoR)   
> 

Otabek stands up, weary but satisfied. He hasn't lost it yet. He's always loved breakdancing competitions from a very young age, and out of his friend group at least, he has proved to be pretty damn good. A sparse group of spectators applauds from behind, and Otabek turns around and smiles, with a small nod of acknowledgment.

Alexei tries to drag him over to yet another dance battle, which he means to politely decline, and is about to, when he sees _him_ dancing his heart out in the corner.

He has the poise of a time-worn ballerina, with golden hair falling along the determined set of his jaw. Inexplicably, Otabek thinks of spring rain on a spiderweb: infinitely strong and graceful and unbreakable and vulnerable all at the same time. It’s a captivating blend of elements he has never seen before, weaving both breakdancing and ballet into an intricately enchanting art form. The superior technique is clearly there, as well as the very real emotion behind every move.

Otabek knows immediately that he will never be as tough or flexible as that incredible dancer... will never be as beautiful or limber or effortless...

The dancer leaps into a graceful pirouette, as fluidly as if on ice. He lifts his head, and his eyes land right on Otabek, who’s caught dead in his tracks.

They lock eyes for a fleeting instant. The moment seems to stretch an eternity as the bass echoes around the room, and the strobe lights flash across the floor. All Otabek notices is that the dancer has haunting, searching eyes—timeless, unrelenting ocean eyes—the unforgettable eyes of a soldier.

But then he blinks, and turns away to recollect his senses, and by the time he plucks up the courage to look again, the dancer has vanished from sight and mind like an ethereal fairy of some sort.

Otabek’s mouth is dry. His head is pounding. He isn't sure whether to laugh or cry; he can’t tell whether his heart is about to shatter or burst.


End file.
